“I’ll be a servant, if necessary.”
For two or three seconds he remained taken aback, but, recovering himself,
“How different things would be,” he resumed in an insinuating tone, “if you had not rejected me when I wanted to become your husband! But you couldn’t bear the sight of me. And yet, ‘pon my word, I was in love with you, oh, but for good and earnest! You see, I am a judge of women; and I saw very well how you would look, handsomely dressed and got up, leaning back in a fine carriage in the Bois—”
Stronger than her will, disgust rose to her lips.
“Ah, sir!” she said.
He mistook her meaning.
“You are regretting all that,” he continued. “I see it. Formerly, eh, you would never have consented to receive me thus, alone with you, which proves that girls should not be headstrong, my dear child.”
He, Costeclar, he dared to call her, “My dear child.” Indignant and insulted, “Oh!” she exclaimed. But he had started, and kept on,
“Well, such as I was, I am still. To be sure, there probably would be nothing further said about marriage between us; but, frankly, what would you care if the conditions were the same,—a fine house, carriages, horses, servants—”
Up to this moment, she had not fully understood him. Drawing herself up to her fullest height, and pointing to the door,